


Bruce Cannot Properly Operate Without All of the Relevent Information

by JusticePlague



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Alfred is attempting to be oblivious, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Barebacking, BatSupes Secret Valentines Gift Exchange 2021, Begging, Biting, Bondage, Bottom Clark Kent, Cock Rings, Collars, Crying, Daddy Kink, DePowered Sex Kink, Depowered, Dirty Talk, Edging, Friends With Benefits, Impact Play, M/M, Magic, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, PWP, Praise, Protective Bruce, Punishment, Rimming, Spanking, This Is All Smut Folx, This really got away from me, Top Bruce Wayne, Toys, Worried Bruce, because they're idiots okay, blindfold, but he knows because it's Alfred, but no choking or deepthroating i can contain myself, fair warning, light imo, paddles, safe words exist but the use isn't ever even considered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29256090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JusticePlague/pseuds/JusticePlague
Summary: The first time it happened, Bruce hadn’t been aware of it when Clark walked in. But Clark was an idiot If he didn't expect Bruce to realize it quickly.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64
Collections: Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021





	Bruce Cannot Properly Operate Without All of the Relevent Information

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Firondoiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/gifts).



> This is for the BatSupes Community Secret Valentine's Exchange!  
> The Prompt was:  
> #4 Established relationship (anywhere from fwb to married). Clark gets depowered, but is uninjured. The sex with Bruce is intense, and Clark loves being physically dominated by Bruce in bed. He keeps finding ways to “accidentally” get depowered then get Bruce to bang him. He thinks he’s being subtle, but Bruce figures it out pretty quickly. He either takes over the depowering and there’s sexy punishment/sex or he plays along because he also doesn’t want to admit how much he enjoys it. 
> 
> Hope I delivered to your expectations, [Firondoiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel)!

The first time it happened, Bruce hadn’t been aware of it when Clark walked in. But, Clark was a complete idiot, stupider than Bruce would have ever dreamed even, if he hadn't expected Bruce to realize it at all, and pretty fast.

He had been working in the cave, on a drug trafficking case, and sent Clark upstairs when he had come in. The younger man’s voice wasn’t quite as chipper as usual, and it worried Bruce. But he needed to finish going through these images and setting facial recognition software to run on them. Then, and only then, would he be able to be fully there for his boy and properly take care of the younger man.

Bruce knew it wasn’t anything too serious, both Lois and Martha Kent were fine because if they weren’t, he didn’t think Clark would be here. But something was bothering his boy, driving him here outside of their usual rendezvous nights. So, he cleared his mind and set to completing this task so that he could get to Clark sooner.

* * *

Clark sat upstairs in the kitchen with Alfred. He had taken his cape off and it sat, folded neatly, on a stool. They chattered, with Alfred waving off every offer of assistance from Clark, while the Englishman completed dinner.

Clark still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he’d broach the topic with Bruce when the older man was finally free. He thought it had to do with Luthor’s new pet mage, but he wasn’t entirely certain. And Bruce would want to know, he reasoned. The man was almost fanatic in his need to document everything about Clark’s alienness, more sense his return from the dead. Clark wasn’t quite sure if Bruce loved him the way he loved Bruce, but he was certain Bruce cared, even if it was just about his health and how it served The Mission. He could see a glimmer of it whenever Bruce looked at him. Clark just didn’t know if it was love, and he was _not_ going to risk what Bruce was willing to give him by uttering those words to that man.

He jumped up at Alfred’s suggestion that he take a tray of food for Bruce and him downstairs and quickly obeyed the older man.

* * *

Bruce would later castigate himself for not realizing exactly _what_ was off about his boy until later, but he didn’t. He had noticed all the signs but hadn't realized what they had meant. Or, rather, he hadn't _let_ himself realize what they meant, at first.

As Clark’s footsteps neared him, he felt his blood go south. Sex was the only thing he would _dare_ consider that Clark would want him for. They had been meeting up twice a week for months now, barring any emergencies. Bruce didn’t stop to think that Clark would _never_ dare to change the terms of their pseudo-relationship, for fear of losing Bruce completely.

So, when Clark finally, _finally_ , reached him and placed the tray of food on the table next to him, Bruce darted his hand out to catch the younger man by the wrist. Clark startled and stared at him with wide eyes, almost like he hadn’t seen Bruce’s movement. This was the first sign, but Bruce overlooked it until he revisited the events of this night later. At the moment, he rationalized it away as Clark not realizing Bruce had heard him coming, or that he was still stuck in ‘Clark-mode’, that is, his public, very human persona.

Bruce slowly turned to face Clark, staring up at him hungrily. “Daddy’s done with work now, baby.” His voice was rougher and deeper than he intended, but he loved the effect on Clark. He loved to watch the full-body shudder when he spoke, like this. “Now, I can take care of my boy. Is that what you need, honey? Why you came to me?”

Bruce watched Clark’s eyes darken, as he shakily nodded. Bruce didn’t move a muscle, letting Clark remember he had to vocalize what he wanted.

“Y-yes, Daddy, please,” Clark almost whined.

Bruce stood, forcing Clark to stay in place so they were pressed together. His hand raised to cradle Clark’s face, gently caressing. The taller man closed the gap between their mouths and kissed Clark with all the love for the other man that he kept bottled inside. Clark moaned into the kiss, arching into Bruce and surrendering to him all at once.

Bruce broke the kiss, smirking at the forlorn whimper Clark hadn’t quite managed to silence. Then, he took the younger man’s hand and led him through the cave to the room he kept hidden in the back. He hadn’t actually planned on bringing Clark here, though he had made it with Clark in mind. But, the younger man was better than a hidden room in the cave, he deserved so much better than what Bruce could give him, someone much better than Bruce, even. But, Clark was here, in the cave, and Alfred was still upstairs. So, he had to make due, and hope Clark wouldn’t be upset by what this room gave away about Bruce.

This room was a startling contrast to Bruce’s usual modern minimalist decor. All of its furniture came in a warm, cozy honey maple, not too dark, and not too light. And, compared to the rest of Bruce’s spaces, there was a lot of furniture, a dresser, a wardrobe, a hope chest, a pair of matching nightstands, two cozy rocking armchairs, a plush couch with wooden accents, a coffee table, the last few things arranged around a fireplace with a matching mantel, rugs scattered throughout… It really was far more than he had elsewhere. The fabrics of the furniture varied, but also kept to royal blues and light creams color-wise; the couch was also home to several crimson throw pillows. 

The bed was the true give away, though, and Bruce cringed as his eyes fell upon it as they entered. How could he have forgotten about that? He should have just kept Clark in the actual cave, and not brought him back here. It was a king-size sleigh bed, so vastly different from his own. The golden maple wood was carved with intricate designs. The comforter over the mattress was a navy blue plaid. The final nail in his coffin wasn’t that, though, oh no. It was the large S shield, placed inside of his own bat symbol, right in the middle of the headboard. If that wasn’t obvious, he didn’t know what was.

Bruce froze and his heart dropped when Clark froze in the doorway. Bruce had never given a name to the emotion that drove him to make this room and decorate it just like this. But, now, with the probability Clark would turn tail and run, seeing it for himself, Bruce allowed himself to call it by name. Love. Bruce Wayne was madly in love with Clark Kent, and he would do anything and take whatever his boy would give him so long as Clark wanted him.

“Clark-” Bruce didn’t get much farther than that before Clark shocked him.

“Bruce, this room is beautiful.”

Bruce felt his face heat up, and he firmly kept his back to Clark. “I’m glad you like it,” Bruce hid his sincerity with snark. From the amused huff, Clark realized the truth to his words anyway.

Bruce tugged on Clark’s hand again, leading him farther in, past the sitting area around the fireplace. He stopped when he reached the bed and took a half-second to steady himself, before turning to Clark. Clark’s face was flushed a pretty pink, and his eyes shone in a way that Bruce was scared to attempt to name. After all, how would they handle it, if Clark felt the same as he did? Clark deserved so much better than Bruce, but Bruce wouldn’t be able to turn the younger man down.

“Daddy, please,” Clark’s voice was soft, so soft, and it matched the tenderness in Bruce’s heart.

“You better behave, boy,” Bruce growled, turning Clark to pull the younger man's back against his broad chest, and teasingly thrust against his ass. He nuzzled into the crook of Clark’s shoulder, pushing the younger man’s head slightly to the side so that he had open access to the sensitive flesh of Clark’s neck. Once he had accomplished that, he licked gently, before giving a couple of teasing nips, which made Clark shiver. Then, Bruce gave him a real bite, hard and rough, and worried the flesh with his teeth.

Clark gasped, pleasure tinged with pain. This was the second sign and Bruce started filing them away for later introspection. Clark never made a gasp that had an edge of pain to it. It was beyond unusual and slightly concerning. But, it could just be because the alien was _that_ turned on, after all. So hard that he was in pain from the pleasure of it.

Bruce soothed the bite with gentle licks after a moment, and Clark pressed into Bruce, wanting more. But Bruce pulled away and pulled Clark’s uniform top up and over his head, before tossing it to the floor.

Bruce spun Clark around, before shoving him back onto the bed, and Clark went, willingly. Though, there wasn’t much he could have done to stop Bruce in his current state, though, unless he was willing to utter his safe word. And he would _never_ do that. Not as long as it was Bruce.

Bruce dropped to his knees between Clark’s legs, and Clark had to suppress a moan at the mere sight of it. Bruce loved to tease him with his mouth, and Clark loved it all. Bruce’s deft hands quickly peeled off Clark’s uniform pants, both freeing Clark’s slowly leaking erection and tossing the boots aside as he did. 

Then, Bruce’s mouth closed around the head of Clark’s cock without warning, and it was only due to Clark’s training and control that he managed to keep his hips still. Bruce sucked on the first couple of inches for a few moments, driving Clark slowly insane. The older man only stopped when Clark’s moans of pleasure became pained whimpers of need.

That was the third sign that Bruce had filed away. Clark, no matter how long you teased him, never ached with the need. But his whimpers were pained now. Bruce wondered if it was just because Clark was ready to go before he got here, and just how long the Kryptonian held off before he gave in and came to Bruce to induce this response. Bruce wasn't aware that Clark hadn’t expected anything like this when he turned up.

“On your hands and knees in the center of the bed, boy.” Bruce’s voice was rough with desire as he sat back on his heels, to give Clark the room to move.

Clark rushed to comply, presenting himself to Bruce as ordered. He shook in anticipation when he heard Bruce’s clothes hit the ground, then felt the bed shift and dip as Bruce joined him. A rough calloused hand ran down his back and over his rump, causing him to shiver. Clark so loved the feel of Bruce’s rough hands.

“You’re going to stay just like that, and take whatever I give you,” Bruce ordered him. Clark was nodding frantically before Bruce even finished the sentence. “After all, you want to be a good boy, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” Clark whined, nodding frantically. “Wanna be your good boy.”

Clark had to bite back a scream a moment later, as Bruce’s tongue laved over his hole with no warning. He whimpered and whined, and tried so hard to stay still in the ordered position, as Bruce licked him open. Which would give out first, his arms, or his control on his hips? It seemed to be a toss-up. That is, it was until his arms were shaking so hard that they could no longer support his weight, and his shoulders dropped to the mattress as Bruce’s lubed fingers replaced his tongue. Clark didn’t know when or where Bruce got lube, but his fingers were slick with the cool liquid.

Bruce’s finger scraped over Clark’s prostate, and the younger man drove himself back onto his dominant partner’s hand, seeking more. Bruce smirked, this is what his boy needed, clearly. Then, without warning, he quickly withdrew his fingers and laid several smacks in quick succession across the Kryptonian’s ass cheeks with his other hand.

“Daddy!” The alien yelped, pushing back into the blows. “Oh, god, Daddy, I’m sorry.”

Bruce knew that, if he could see Clark’s face he would see tears in those vivid blue eyes. A few more smacks later, and his hand went from punishing to caressing the reddened flesh.

“Now stay still, boy,” Bruce growled, loving the shudder that ran through Clark’s body at his voice. He didn’t make the alien return to his previous position, however, and allowed him to stay with his shoulders down and his ass up.

And those were the next signs, four and five, that Bruce filed away. These were probably the most unsettling of the signs, especially the red prints across the Man of Steel's perfect, bubbly ass. Nothing was supposed to be able to mark the Kryptonian. He took nuclear blasts without much trouble, after all. Bruce's hands, or tools, had never left marks until tonight. And, Clark had never yelped in pain during a spanking, until now. Bruce could only hope it was a temporary vulnerability brought on by his sexual desperation. That, at least, Bruce could assist in keeping under control.

Bruce slowly slid his fingers back into Clark's tight heat, relishing the feel and remembering how it felt around his cock. After just a few more minutes of prep, where Clark moaned and whimpered but stayed obediently still, Bruce moved up on his knees behind Clark. He grabbed the lube from where he had dropped it next to Clark and quickly coated himself, before letting it fall back to the blanket. Then, he was lining himself up and slowly pushing into Clark’s well-lubed, but still too-tight hole. Bruce had never had to worry about hurting Clark before, so prep had always been more for him than Clark.

Clark twitched, but kept still, even though he whimpered in pain. He had never felt the burn of penetration before, but he absolutely loved the pleasure tinged pain. His hands twisted in the plaid comforter as he clung to his control. After all, he did want to be a good boy for Daddy.

Bruce almost stopped at that pained whimper, but his boy needed this, was begging for this. Even though Clark was vulnerable, though Bruce didn’t know how or why and it scared Bruce, Clark needed this so Bruce would provide it. Maybe he had come to Bruce because it was a case of needing to be fucked, otherwise, he was certain the other man would have gone to the Fortress or Watchtower. His love was awfully desperate for this tonight, and he just wanted to give the other man whatever he needed. So, if his boy needed this? Bruce would gladly give it, as often as he wanted it, for as long as he wanted Bruce.

When Bruce finally bottomed out, his hips pressed firmly against Clark’s lush ass, he paused to regain control. Clark was always so tight, so hot, that Bruce felt like he would blow with just a couple of strokes. But his boy deserved dedication, and the greatest sex Bruce was capable of giving him.

“Daddy,” Clark whined, softly.

“Tell me what you need, baby boy,” Bruce bent down over him to nuzzle at the nape of his neck.

“Please, Daddy.” Clark’s voice was as strained as his body was. “Fuck me, please, please, Daddy.”

“That’s my good, slutty boy,” Bruce praised, trailing his fingertips over Clark’s ribs, stroking him gently.

The feather-soft touches were in direct contrast to the brutal thrust Bruce delivered. Clark arched into it, with a long keen that sounded torn from him. Bruce kept up the brutal thrusts, watching Clark slowly break apart underneath him.

Clark’s hand’s twisted in the blanket, their constant movement the only thrashing Clark allowed himself. He had bitten into the blankets, trying to muffle his noises and to keep more of him still, as his Daddy wanted.

Clark was quite shocked when Bruce roughly grabbed his hair and dragged his head up and back, as far as it would go, while Bruce’s other hand landed in the center of his back and pressed Clark's shoulders down.

“I want to hear the desperate, slutty noises you make, boy,” Bruce growled into his ear. 

Clark gave a filthy moan in reply, which was followed by more incoherent noises. Bruce smirked down at him before sliding his hand from Clark’s back down to hold his hips.

“This is how I want you to come, this time,” Bruce told him. “Just from me fucking your slutty little hole.”

Clark’s moan this time sounded a lot like “Yes, Daddy,” but Bruce wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Clark quite this into it. It only took a few more thrusts, Bruce unerringly hitting Clark’s prostate every time, before Clark gave a keening wail as he shot his load into the plaid blanket.

But, Bruce didn’t stop, nor was he prepared to blow his load deep in Clark, just how the alien always liked it. He kept up his brutal pace as Clark twitched and whimpered beneath him. Bruce knew how much his slutty boy could take, and Clark wasn’t done yet. 

Bruce kept one hand in Clark’s hair and slipped his other from the younger man’s hip around to grasp Clark’s still hard cock. It took his boy a few moments to go down, but in those moments, his body could be convinced to stay hard. And that's what Bruce was doing, forcing Clark to stay hard by continuing to relentlessly fuck the alien, each thrust tormenting his prostate, and stroking his cock.

Clark whined and whimpered, struggling to keep himself still for his Daddy to use. He wanted to meet Bruce’s thrusts, wanted to fuck himself on his Daddy’s thick cock. But Bruce ordered him to stay still. So, he did, as much as he could.

Bruce lost track of time, holding his own orgasm at bay, for as long as he possibly could, had destroyed his concentration. He did realize, however, by the way, Clark spasmed under him, around him, that the younger man had come again. Bruce continued to fuck him, though, keeping him hard yet again.

The Kryptonian could barely do more than whimper helplessly now, his body sagging and only Bruce’s hand in his hair keeping his head up. Yes, Clark could come again, and he barely had the brainpower to realize his refractory period had to be innate in Kryptonians, not a gift of a yellow sun, but it only occurred to him briefly. Until another vicious thrust over his prostate caused all thoughts to flee as he wailed pathetically. His body shook hard as he attempted to come for the third time that night.

Bruce felt Clark's passage tremble around him, effectively milking his cock, as the alien cried out in a long broken wail, and the older man came with a shout that he muffled against Clark’s shoulder. He emptied himself deep inside his boy, painting his insides white, and almost wishing he could look into Clark like Clark could and see his come marking the seeming paragon of virtue.

Bruce allowed himself to slump over Clark for a moment, releasing Clark's hair and allowing Clark's head to fall to the bed. After a few moments, he rolled off of him and crawled over far enough to reach the nightstand. He pulled a plug from it, and a pack of wipes, before he rolled over to face Clark.

“Yes or no, sugar?” Bruce asked, holding the plug up in front of Clark’s unfocused eyes.

Clark blinked, his eyes slowly focusing on the black plug. He stared for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Yes, please, Daddy.” 

“Such a good, perfect boy,” Bruce praised him, gently petting him as he knelt up, leaning over Clark. 

He scooped up the bottle of lube from where it had shifted to in the bed and slicked the toy. Clark might be loose and slick, but Bruce was not taking another chance with his sweet boy. He gently, and carefully, spread Clark’s cheeks, glistening with both lube and the little bit of the billionaire's spend, and slowly, so slowly, inserted the plug into Clark.

Clark whimpered as it slid in and gave a loud, broken whine when it rubbed over his prostate.

Bruce couldn't help his smirk, when the plug was all the way in, the bat logo standing out in relief, as an utterly wicked idea occurred to him. He dropped the wipes onto the blanket, he wouldn't need them just yet. The billionaire was certain he could make the reporter come again, and was determined to try.

"You remember your safe word, boy?" Bruce growled down at the other man.

"Y-yeah, Daddy," his voice was a quiet gasp.

"Good boy." 

Bruce's lips twisted in a wicked smile. His calloused fingers wiggled the plug a bit, watching Clark's face as it pressed against the alien's prostate which made his whole body jolt. Then Bruce took hold of the plug and roughly pulled it out, leaving only the tip in, and then thrust it back in, just as rough.

Clark cried out, a broken sob, "Please, no more." Bruce repeated the rough thrust, causing Clark to cry out again as the plug hit his prostate. "Please, Daddy!" Another rough thrust. "Too much!" And again. "I can't!"

Bruce briefly considered stopping, as tears poured from Clark's azure eyes. But, his boy hadn't said his safe word, so he was okay with what Bruce was doing, even if he was overly sensitive and hurting from it.

"You can, baby," Bruce soothed him, petting his hair, and continuing thrusting the toy in and out of the younger man's twitching hole. He knew it was pressing into Clark's prostate with every thrust in by the way his lover sobbed brokenly with every movement. "Such a good, sweet boy. My perfect baby."

Bruce adjusted his position and ran his hand down Clark's back, petting him lovingly. He snaked his hand under Clark, to grasp his semi-erect cock. The alien squirmed, his hips jolting at the contact.

"Daddy, please," he sobbed.

"You know what to say to make me stop, boy," Bruce growled, as Clark's cock twitched and slowly filled.

"No," Clark moaned, burying his face in the blanket.

"I didn't think so, baby," Bruce grinned, viciously. He thrust the plug in one final time, before wiggling it, using it to press into Clark's prostate, and then rubbed it against that sweet spot, a constant but shifting pleasure. “That’s my good boy, give me everything you have. So beautiful, baby.”

The younger man spasmed, a thin wail forcing itself from his chest. His hips jerked, thrusting into Bruce's fist around his cock and back onto the plug. His body sought pleasure, even though it felt so good it hurt. He needed it. It had never felt this way. Even when Bruce had milked him before, leaving him exhausted and sated, it was never this exquisite pleasure-pain.

This went on for what felt like centuries to Clark. His world had narrowed to the sensations, his eyes were open, he was certain, but he couldn’t see anything. He was sobbing, broken whimpers and whines muffled by the blanket. He knew he could make it stop, at any moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter the one word that would end this. Clark craved whatever Bruce wanted to give him, needed it like a drug.

Clark’s final orgasm took him by surprise, he hadn’t expected it. He screamed into the blanket, it felt so good. His body spasmed violently, as Bruce used to plug to milk his prostate. How that man always unerringly found it, no matter what he was using, Clark wasn’t quite sure. Fireworks went off behind his eyes, as he came. A keening wail was pried from him as his release crashed through him in waves. It felt never-ending, but he really didn’t think he had all that much come left in him. Clark went limp, though his body still shook with aftershocks, after what felt like forever.

Bruce carefully released both Clark’s now soft cock and the plug, leaving the latter still buried inside the other man. The billionaire carefully and gently rolled the alien over, keeping him away from the mess of his spend on the blankets.

Clark whined at the movement as it jostled him and moved the plug, no matter how carefully Bruce had moved him to lay on his back next to the other man. The cold wipe over his torso startled him, and he cracked an eye open to give Bruce a dirty look.

“Such a good boy,” Bruce was praising him as he cleaned Clark’s torso. “Beautiful and wonderful. Just let me take care of you now, honey.”

And, Bruce did, gently cleaning his torso. Bruce’s hand hesitated, but he cleaned Clark’s cock off as quickly as he could.

“I’m beyond honored you trust me with this,” Bruce was muttering. He hadn’t stopped praising Clark since he started rubbing the plug against Clark’s prostate. He hadn’t been able to. The knowledge that he was the only one Clark gave this to, plus that Clark trusted him enough to come to him powerless, had left him in awe.

When Bruce had finished cleaning Clark, and then himself, he carefully moved Clark up the bed farther. That didn’t keep Clark from whimpering as the plug jostled slightly. When Bruce had Clark settled into the pillows, he carefully pulled the blanket and sheet from under the younger man. Clark was already asleep, sleeping the deep sleep of the sated and exhausted. Bruce couldn’t help the fond smile he felt spread over his lips.

Bruce completely pulled the comforter off, and dropped it in a pile on the floor, before he pulled the sheet over Clark. He’d wash the big blanket himself later. The older man leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed another blanket from inside the hope chest, quickly unfolded it, and draped it over Clark, too.

Bruce stood up and disappeared back to the cave for a moment. He came out for some water he kept in a small fridge but noticed Alfred had left a plate overflowing with cookies on a table. He let himself feel embarrassed for a moment, then grabbed the plate and a couple of bottles of water to disappear back into his secret room with Clark. 

Bruce deposited the cookies on a nightstand, before he returned to the bed, tucking himself in next to Clark. The playboy pulled Clark carefully into his arms and held him as he slept. Clark was unconscious, so Bruce allowed himself to feel his love for the other man, and allowed himself to pet Clark, not for Clark’s benefit but his own.

* * *

This repeated approximately 17 times, with Clark not uttering a word to Bruce about his power loss and leaving Bruce to realize it during. Bruce _loved_ the depowered sex, but he was getting aggravated with Clark. What was he exposing himself to in order to accomplish this? Or, was it some Kryptonian biological thing? And, _why wouldn’t his boy just tell him_? Bruce _needed_ to know! He could seriously injure the alien in their play, and that wasn’t what he wanted. _He could not operate properly without all the information!_

So, he went digging. First, through the Fortress’s files. There wasn’t much on Kryptonian biology under a yellow sun, and what there was didn’t mention anything similar. There also weren’t any mentions of any biological urges like this in Kryptonians at all. So, his next step was looking through what Superman and Clark had been up to before coming to him depowered.

It didn’t take him long to find a suspicious correlation. Every time Clark lost his powers, he’d had a run-in with Luthor’s newly hired magic-user, a rather high-level mage that went only by the name Savage. He was hired, according to the base-level encrypted files, to erect wards around LexCorp. Bruce dug deeper, going into Luthor’s personal files. Apparently, Lex’s plans for this mage included having him depower Superman so that the megalomaniac could break him mentally, where he couldn’t be touched physically.

Bruce didn’t need to be a genius, or a detective, to realize what Luthor meant by this. The files also laid it out plainly for those who were idiots. And he felt absolutely sick to his stomach over it. Clark was risking _that_ , to have depowered sex, with him? 

Bruce slid out of his desk chair and pulled the wastebasket under his face as he began to retch. The vigilante would not stand for this. He laid out a mental list of tasks, while his stomach emptied itself. First, he needed to pay this mage a visit. Next, he was going to figure out a way to depower the alien safely, and on _their_ terms. Then, he was going to have to punish his boy. Clark might not know Luthor’s plans exactly, but he was _still willingly throwing himself into danger_ , and in such a way that he could be seriously harmed, or killed.

No, Bruce couldn’t have that. He _would not_ stand for his boy doing something so reckless.

* * *

The mage was not at all what Bruce expected when he made time to confront the magic-user.

He had broken into the other man’s apartment, minimalistic modernistic decor was the word of the day, apparently. Bruce wondered if he could get the number for the man’s decorator, this place was just Bruce’s style. However, it was so much Bruce’s style, that it lacked any personal touches except a single picture of the man, another who appeared to be his twin, and a handful of other young adults. Bruce did not let himself be discouraged and dropped onto the couch to wait.

He heard the key in the lock, and sat up, staring at the door. He knew he would be clothed in shadow and still unseen when the other man stepped in.

“You couldn’t wait for me to get back and knock on the door like a normal person, could you? Fuckin’ rich people shit.” The man, Savage, grumbled as the door swung open. He stepped inside and shed his shoes as he flipped the light on and the door swung shut of what seemed like its own accord. “Now, what could _The Batman_ want with me?”

“You need to stop depowering Superman,” Bruce growled, standing. The other man was tall, easily a few inches over Bruce’s natural height, and it threw him off for a moment. “The world needs him.”

The mage tilted his head back and laughed. Bruce stared at him, dismayed.

“Do you not realize what Luthor is planning?” Bruce could feel his anger rising.

“ _Of course_ I know what Alexander wants.”

The mage’s nonchalant attitude got to Bruce, and he had taken several steps toward the other man before he even realized it.

"But, _that_ doesn't matter because I'm not doing it for Lexie."

"Anyone that would want Kal-El depowered and vulnerable won't be up to any good. You need to stop!" Bruce glowered at the other man.

"You can stop trying to intimidate me, my little sisters have you beat by a country mile, Batsy." Savage huffed a little laugh. "And would the person that wanted Big Blue powerless still be suspicious if it were Big Blue himself?"

"He would _never_!" Bruce vehemently denied.

"But he does, at least once a week."

"You're lying!" Bruce was across the distance between them in an instant. He grabbed the mage by his throat and slammed him against the wall, pulling him up to his tiptoes. " _Tell me the truth_!"

"I have told you the truth. Kal asks me to do it, granted, for the wrong reasons. You see, the spell I use is a spell from my people. It is used to bring soulmates together. It has the side effect of depowering Kryptonians. Of course, he thinks the ‘find your soulmate’ compelling effect doesn’t work on him, because soulmates love each other, right? Now, tell me, why would he be utterly convinced that you don’t love him, _could never_ love him?”

Bruce froze, the lean man slipping out of his now lax fingers.

“The problem isn’t me,” Bruce muttered. “It has to be faulty. Otherwise, he would go to anyone but me.”

“Allow me to tell you with _absolute certainty_ that you are, in fact, a _complete fucking idiot_ ,” Savage hissed at him, stalking away.

Bruce remained frozen, his mind racing so fast he couldn’t think. Savage returned a moment later, shoving a can of beer in Bruce’s hands, before plopping down on the armchair. Bruce stared at it before he returned to the couch and popped it open.

“So, enlighten me on how I am an idiot,” Bruce told the other man, gulping the cheap, terrible tasting beer.

“Not my place, kiddo, but you should try… I don’t know, fucking _talking_ to him for once?” Savage rolled his eyes.

“Kiddo? I could be your father,” Bruce frowned at him before taking another drink.

“Hah, if I were human!” Savage tipped his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry, we, my siblings and I, that is, have been on Earth for ages, we’re invested in its future at this point.”

“Then, what are you, if not human?” Bruce was curious now.

“Lil of this, lil of that, it’s not all that important,” Savage shrugged, finally popping open his beer and taking a large gulp. “But, back to you, Brucie...”

“What? How?!?” Bruce exclaimed, reeling back as if stung.

“Lil bit o’ telepathy,” the mage smirked at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you-”

“Know Kal-El’s? Human name, that is. No. Kryptonian minds are a lot quieter than humans, to be honest. I didn’t go looking, your thoughts are pouring out of you. The only thing he ever broadcasts is about you, and, to be fair, those are just little flashes when he’s having a rough time.”

“Oh.” Bruce sagged back into the couch, relieved. He went to take another sip but found the can empty.

“Come on, doom and gloom, take a load off for the night, you’ve covered your bases, that dark mistress of yours will still be intact tomorrow, in all her infamous beauty,” Savage told him. “I’ll grab you another beer. Something tells me that you don’t have someone you can just vent to. So, take a load off. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Bruce couldn’t help himself and relaxed into the couch as Savage got him another beer. And then they talked. Bruce didn’t know why, but they talked for hours. Mostly about Clark, and his plans for punishing his reckless boy, after all, Clark would be back around soon.

* * *

When Clark entered the cave, he was mildly surprised to find it empty. He hoped Bruce hadn't had an emergency, though maybe that would be for the best. He hadn't been able to contact the mage he had been visiting and as such his powers were still fully functional. It made him nervous. He liked sex with Bruce under any circumstances, but it was so much more intense when he was powerless, and he didn’t have to worry about losing control. And, after the week he had with Lex irritating him as much as possible, he needed it as intense as possible.

Clark poked around for a few moments before he realized there was a note with his name on it taped to the top of one of the monitors for the bat computer. He snatched it off and read it quickly, feeling his face heat up as he did.

Bruce had left him specific instructions to make his way to their playroom, which is what that hidden room had become over time, and strip. There he would find restraints attached to their usual fuck bench and a few items he was to put on. He was to put these items on, place himself over the bench, and the restraints would snap shut when he put his limbs in the proper position. And, then, Clark was to wait for Bruce.

Clark thought he understood Bruce’s instructions to insert a plug when he first woke up this morning, and to wear it all day without getting off once, now that he had found the letter. It has kept Clark semi-hard, if not ready to burst, since. Clark figured it was because Bruce knew how rough a week he had since their last rendezvous and thought that his boy needed to be distracted to the fullest extent of his ability, and being edged for an extended period would definitely distract him. 

Clark followed the instructions and went to the room, stripping and neatly folding his clothes to place inside one of the dresser drawers as soon as he entered. Their usual fuck bench was front and center, and Clark felt his cock twitch. He always thought this one was gorgeous, being made of the same wood as the rest of the furniture and being upholstered with royal blue colored leather. The items Bruce wanted him to wear were placed neatly, teasingly, on the bench. 

The item on the top was a cock ring, which Clark put on, thinking this confirmed his theory of Bruce wanting to edge him until he was a pile of desperation. The next was a collar, a simple black leather thing with a metal bat in the front center. There were several D-rings in various places, that Clark couldn't help but toying with for a moment before he lifted it and placed it around his neck.

Clark briefly wondered if Bruce put as much weight on collars as some people in the BDSM community did, but quickly decided that he must not. Not if Bruce were giving one to him. It wasn’t like they had discussed it or anything, so it was probably something Bruce just wanted to see him in for a bit. A trinket that would mean nothing in the morning.

Clark didn't realize, however, that when he had clicked the buckle closed, the collar locked. And, when the collar locked, part of the bat slid open, revealing a pale pink stone. If he had noticed this, he would have been moderately concerned, but he didn't. The only thing he noticed was his skin getting hot and tingly and his cock twitching as it started to get hard again.

‘Don't go getting all excited just yet!’ He mentally yelled at himself. ‘I don’t know how long we’ll be waiting!’

But, as per the usual, his body paid him no mind when it came to the promise of fantastic sex and his cock twitched its way to hardness before he had fully clambered onto the fuck bench. 

Clark placed his legs in the proper position, kneeling on the bench, and almost jumping out of his skin when the restraints snapped shut of their own accord around his ankles and calves. He grabbed the blindfold, tying it around his eyes, and laid down over the bench. He adjusted the blindfold until he couldn't see the faintest bit of light before he wiggled his arms around until restraints snapped shut over his wrists and biceps.

Clark spared a moment to worry about how he would remain in control and not shatter the restraints since he wasn't powerless for _this_.

The blindfold wasn't their usual one, which was a black leather thing with a plush interior and lead lining so he couldn't see. This blindfold was a crimson silk thing, and unless the silk was somehow lead infused, Clark would be able to see through it. He didn't try yet, though, just settled himself in to wait, letting his eyelids drift close under the blindfold. Daddy would be here, soon. Daddy would take care of him.

* * *

Clark had no idea how long he waited, but he startled when the door slammed shut with a loud bang. He hadn't even heard it open. But, did that mean…

"Daddy?" 

When Clark received no answer, he tried to look through the blindfold but found he couldn't. He couldn't even flip into x-ray vision. This made him panic and he pulled against his bonds futility for a few moments, crying and yelling for his Daddy. He didn't realize how vulnerable being powerless and restrained would make him feel, nor did he realize what had sapped his powers. He was panicking so much it didn't even occur to him that the only one that could probably even get into this room, other than Bruce, was Alfred, and Alfred wouldn't hurt him. Clark's mind was pulling up scenarios of all sorts of villains, instead of the more likely possibilities.

This continued for several long moments, until a calloused hand landed on Clark's back, a soothing caress over the smooth flesh. Clark flinched at the initial contact and trembled under the hand.

"Easy, son, easy," Bruce murmured, continuing his petting of the panicked man.

"Oh, god, Daddy," Clark sobbed, relaxing minutely. Daddy would protect him, take care of him.

"Do you understand how dangerous it is to allow yourself to be depowered like you have been, now, Clark?" Bruce's voice was soft.

"Y-yeah, Daddy," Clark nodded his head. "I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again."

"Baby, I don't expect you to never let it happen again. I expect you to not be so reckless," Bruce sighed, dropping to his knees to speak directly to Clark, though Clark couldn't see him. "That mage of Lex's is a good man, but if he weren't, you would have experienced being powerless and terrified like this months ago. And, not just that, but I could have unintentionally hurt you if I hadn't realized, sweetie. I needed you to learn a lesson, Clark. You cannot put yourself in danger like that. Do you know why, baby?"

Clark sniffled. "'Cause, the world needs me."

"Well, yes, but not just the world," Bruce stroked Clark's curling hair. "It was brought to my attention that I've failed you, too, honey. It's not just the world that needs you. It's me. I need you, Clark. You're the light to my darkness. I need you because I love you. And, finding out how much danger you were putting yourself into, and realizing just how much I could have injured you myself... It scared me, baby. I need you to understand that. It's not just the fact someone else could have hurt you, but I could have, Clark. And, I love you too much to risk that."

Bruce gently tilted Clark's face and laid a tender, chaste kiss against the younger man's lips. He didn't stay there or deepen the kiss to taste Clark like he really wanted to, but stood up. He resumed caressing Clark's back, long soothing strokes.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Clark was still crying. Bruce's hand followed the line of his back, to brush a gentle stroke over Clark's flank, and down over his firm ass. Clark pushed back into the hand as it passed over his ass, whimpering softly. "Please, Daddy, please."

"Please what, baby boy?"

"Punish me! Spank me! Please, Daddy, I need you to. I was bad, I need it," Clark whined.

"Oh, honey," Bruce sighed, again. This wasn't quite his plan, but if his boy needed it... Bruce's hand caressed that strong ass. "How many do you think you deserve, baby?"

Clark shifted, pressing into Bruce's hand. "30?" His voice was soft, questioning.

"Are you sure, baby? That's far more than I've ever given you while you're so vulnerable." Clark nodded, sniffling. "So long as you’re sure… And you promise to use your safeword if it gets too much, we can always resume the punishment at a different time, honey.” Clark nodded again, and Bruce frowned down at him, his hand never stopping its caressing. “Remember my expectations, Clark.”

“Ye-yes, Daddy.”

Bruce continued frowning worriedly at his boy as he stepped away to fetch Clark’s favorite paddle. It was a thin bamboo one, with several bat-shaped holes. He set the paddle down within easy reach and watched Clark for a moment. The alien was tense, so tense his body was shaking.

Bruce steeled his heart against Clark's cries, and he brought his hand down on Clark's ass, for the first smack.

Clark yelped, flinching. "O-one, s-sir. Th-ank you!"

Bruce did 9 more with his hand, varying the positioning and watching Clark’s ass turn pink by degrees. The blows were interspersed with gentle caressing and Clark’s sobs. He continued counting and thanking Bruce, without fail, however.

At 10, Bruce picked up the paddle, his hand lightly petting Clark’s pinkened flesh. “Are you okay?” Clark merely nodded. “Boy, answer me.”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” Clark’s voice was hoarse from his crying. 

“Good boy,” Bruce praised him, grinning down proudly, though he knew Clark couldn’t see it. “Are you ready for the paddle?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy, please,” Clark whined. “Please, Daddy, paddle me!”

Bruce bit back his sigh, he didn’t want to punish his boy like this, not this severely, at least. He took a practice swing with the paddle, letting Clark hear the tool whistle through the air and feel the wind from it, without letting it touch his flesh, stopping it just short of that round ass. Clark whined in expectation and disappointment and Bruce couldn’t help the smirk down at him.

Such a pretty, desperate thing, his Clark. Bruce brought his arm back, and swung, not too hard but hard enough, and Clark cried out in a mix between a loud sob and a moan, as he arched into the blow.

“Oh, Rao, e-e-le-ven, Daddy! Thank you!”

Bruce watched the skin grow darker with just one hit before he delivered another. And another. He stopped to caress the heated flesh momentarily, savagely happy to see the bat markings forming in the redness. The vigilante knew the marks wouldn’t last once he removed the collar, but he loved seeing them on his boy. His mark of ownership over the world’s strongest being. 

Then Bruce continued, following the pattern of 3 hits and a few moments of caressing, and listening to Clark count and thank him, the younger man’s voice becoming hoarser with every blow as he sobbed.

Bruce checked in twice more before he had completed the 20 blows with the paddle, but Clark gave him the go-ahead every time, even as Bruce watched the skin go from pleasantly pink to a deep red and listened to Clark’s voice grow rougher with his sobs. Though, Clark’s hips would rut into the bench between hits, like the alien had no control over his body.

Bruce couldn’t wait for the last hit, and he dropped the paddle to the ground almost immediately, as he moved around to stand in front of Clark. He took in the sight of the soaked blindfold and the just as soaked face of his baby before he dropped to his knees. Bruce shoved the blindfold off and gently wiped Clark’s face clean.

“Are you okay, baby?” Bruce asked him, concern tinting his voice into a tone soothing to Clark.

“Ye-ah,” Clark sniffled and whined. “Thank you, Daddy. I feel better now.”

“That’s my good boy,” Bruce couldn’t keep the sappy smile from his face or stop himself from caressing along the cheekbones of the perfect face. 

Clark returned Bruce’s smile with a tentative one of his own. “Daddy… Can we?”

“Can we what, honey?” Bruce asked him. Oh, Bruce knew, but his boy had to use his words.

“Will you… Will you fuck me, please?” Clark’s voice was soft and hoarse and made Bruce’s heart clench painfully. 

“Is that what you need? Do you need Daddy’s cock splitting you open, son?” Bruce nuzzled into the hair behind Clark’s ear, comforting himself with Clark’s scent.

“Oh, god, yes, Daddy, please,” Clark almost moaned, his hips resuming their rutting against the bench. “Want your cock, Daddy!”

“Well, boy, I think I can give it to you since you asked so prettily.” Bruce stood. He went and pulled a tube a lube from one of the nightstands before moving around to stand behind Clark and fully assess the damage he had wrought. The skin was starting to bruise, with little bats here and there left slightly pinkish.

Bruce caressed the marked flesh as he fell to his knees again, Clark hissing at the contact to his abused flesh. The golden-colored plug stood out against the darkening skin. He had taken great pains to make sure he kept from touching it before but now…

Bruce bent his head, using his hands to spread Clark’s cheeks, and licked the skin stretched tight around the plug. Clark jerked against his bonds frantically, incoherent pleas falling from his perfect lips. Bruce smirked against the wrinkled flesh before he brought a hand up to slowly work the plug free. Then he really dove in. He licked and nibbled and sucked at Clark’s hole, driving his boy to a fever pitch and enjoying the way he cried and pulled against the bonds. But, he never once uttered his safe word.

After a few minutes, when Clark had given up pulling on his bonds, and just laid there, twitching and sobbing with frustration and need, Bruce pulled his mouth away. He quickly lubed his fingers, and slowly pushed them into Clark’s sensitive passage one at a time. Bruce knew the plug had kept Clark loose, but he also knew that his dick was on the larger side and he wanted to make sure his boy was well stretched and lubed.

Bruce slowly fucked Clark’s loose hole with four fingers, watching the way the muscle twitched, trying futilely to keep the fingers in or get more sensation. He continued like this, making sure to press against Clark’s prostate every so often, causing the other man to jolt in his bonds and whimper pathetically.

When Bruce was satisfied, he stood and dropped his pants, slicking himself quickly. Then he lined himself up, and slowly thrust in. Clark gave a filthy moan, arching and pressing back into Bruce’s thrust. Bruce grabbed the reporter’s hips and held him still as he slowly bottomed out in Clark.

“So gorgeous, baby, you want this, don’t you?” Bruce carefully lowered himself over Clark’s back and laid kisses over his shoulders.

“Oh, yes, Daddy, please,” Clark babbled. “Love your cock, so big, so full. Please, Daddy, fuck me. Love it when you fuck me.”

Bruce gave in, roughly thrusting into Clark. He rutted into his boy, causing the younger man to thrash in his bonds as Bruce’s cock pressed against his prostate repeatedly.

“Oh, god, Daddy, please, please, wanna come, please,” Clark’s babble changed from how much he loved Bruce’s cock, and that was an ego boost like no other, to begging for release. 

It was only then that Bruce belatedly remembered the cock ring, and he slipped his hand around, forcing Clark’s hips up a little, to flip it open, releasing his lover’s turgid flesh. Clark groaned but didn’t come immediately as Bruce had expected. Instead, he held off, waiting for permission.

Bruce gripped Clark’s hips with both hands and raised himself up so that he could forcefully pound into Clark. Bruce could feel his own climax building, ready to crash into him. 

“Come, boy,” he growled down at Clark.

Clark’s back arched as he screamed and the first wave of his orgasm washed over him. He shook and trembled as he spilled against the leather of the bench, his world going black.

His clenching insides were all Bruce needed and he came deep inside Clark with a loud groan, marking his deepest parts. The older man leaned over Clark’s back again, inhaling the younger man’s scent and catching his breath. 

A few moments later, he eased himself from Clark with a sharp intake of breath, before releasing Clark from his bindings. Bruce gently maneuvered Clark so that he could pick the younger man up, and move him to the bed, where he settled him in. He cleaned off Clark’s torso and groin with gentle strokes of a wipe, before rolling him over. 

He gently spread Clark’s cheeks and cleaned the fluids leaking from him there, too. Then, Bruce unlocked the collar, letting the little compartment in the bat slide closed, and pulling it from Clark’s neck. He dropped in on the nightstand nearest him and crawled in next to Clark. Once he was settled, he pulled the younger man into him, watching in mild fascination as the marks he left healed and faded.

Several hours later, when Clark woke up, Bruce was still awake and holding him.

“B?” Clark’s voice was groggy. “That was great, Bruce.”

“It’s always great with you, baby,” Bruce hummed in acknowledgment. “But, I meant it, Clark, you can’t put yourself in danger like that. Anyone could have hurt you. _I could have hurt you_.”

“I know… I’m sorry, Bruce,” Clark sighed. “It was just… good, so _good_ , so _intense_. And… I didn’t think you would go for it if you knew beforehand…”

“Clark, I meant everything I said,” Bruce rephrased, reiterated. “Everything.”

“What? You mean… You love me?” Clark felt his heart skip a beat and start racing.

“I have… Yes. This entire time,” Bruce confirmed. “I was… Forcefully shown the errors of my ways. Your mage friend is something else.”

“I’m pretty sure that guy is more your friend than mine at this point, Bruce,” Clark told him. “I had to pay him for his services. How did you depower me, anyway?”

“The collar. The bat opens and there’s an enchanted stone inside. The cover has a ward that blocks it while closed.”

“Rao, you just have to bat brand everything, don’t you?”

“If you’re not careful, I’ll stamp a bat on you, too,” Bruce smirked at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Like SuperBat?  
> Join us in the [BatSupes Community Discord](https://discord.gg/5Na3YGx).  
> We have brainstorming, sprints, games, trivia, and more!  
> We hope to see you there!


End file.
